Life with Prosper
by AMango
Summary: A series of oneshots attempting to answer the question "What if Cadel was raised by Prosper instead of the Piggotts? Some will be humorous, some serious, and some... God only knows.
1. Bedtime

This is going to be a series of one shots all meant to answer the question "What if Cadel was raised by Prosper instead of the Piggots?" Some will be humorous, some serious, and some... God only knows.

This chapter is Cadel and Prosper centric (as I intend them all to be) and is intended to be funny with a bit of seriousness and fatherly love. It's not crack or fall out of your chair laughing funny, but it's amusing.

Rated T because I know at some point I'll say something profane and I don't want to have to worry about it.

Also, **this first chapter was inspired by inmemoryof0928 on Deviant Art. (I'll post the link in my profile.) Go check out her picture "Bed Time" and her other Evil Genius fanart. Give her your love; she deserves it!**

Please note that although I'm known for writing yaoi/shonen ai fanfics, I do NOT intend to make this one of them. I can't get past the huge age difference between Cadel and Prosper, not to mention that, whether he actually is or not, Prosper will always be like a father to Cadel and... well, I just can't do it.

Warning: Contains Prosper English.

* * *

**Chapter 1-Bedtime**

It was a dark and stormy and ridiculously cliche night....

Prosper had told Cadel to go to bed around midnight, but the boy genius wasn't tired and he was in the middle of hacking into something, making the rest of us feel stupid in comparison.

Knowing that his father wouldn't compromise, he got off the computer and started getting ready for bed. But that didn't mean he'd actually do what he was told. Prosper had, after all, taught him to lie and deceive when he wanted something.

When Cadel began changing into his pajamas, Prosper seemed to be satisfied and left. Everyone's favorite hacker waited a few minutes, listening for footsteps before deciding it was safe to get back on the computer. He flicked off the lights, quietly padded across the room, and returned to his work.

He felt slightly smug that he had tricked his father so easily, but didn't think much about it.

He really should have realized that it was _too_ easy.

It was now about 3 am, but Cadel wasn't paying attention to the time. He was too busy doing geniusy things to care.

But, since I must have a plot, he should have realized that something was going on.

He paused in his work for a moment to take a drink of the Pepsi he had Vadi bring to him earlier. As he went to set the cup back down he felt a hand clamp down on the back of his head. He jumped in his seat, startled, almost spilling his drink.

"Bed time. NOW," an all to familiar voice hissed from somewhere behind him. Cadel was worried and afraid at this point--it was never a good idea to anger Prosper, but it's not like he'd actually _do_ anything...right?

Wrong.

"Click."

Cadel instantly recognized that sound. It was Prosper's handgun.

If he wasn't frozen in fear, he might have gotten up and rushed to bed. But, despite the fact that adrenalin is supposed to make it easier to escape, his limbs just wouldn't respond.

"Please," Prosper added in some horrible mockery of actual politeness. Or perhaps he actually thought that a simple please would somehow make things not-so-traumatizing. Whatever his reason, it was obscenely unnecessary.

Cadel was silent for a minute until a nudge brought him back to his senses. Then he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: "Uh... good morning?"

It was Prosper's turn to be shocked into silence. "Good... morning?" he repeated as though he couldn't believe what he had just heard.

Using the opportunity, Cadel slipped off of the chair and away from the outstretched hand that was on his head. He was aware of Prosper's gaze on him as he climbed into bed.

By the time he was under the blankets, Prosper had put the gun away. Cadel was able to relax slightly, but was still quite concerned. He watched wearly as his father inspected the computer.

Prosper noticed the cup sitting there and wrapped his long fingers around it, muttering "may I?"

Although Cadel wondered why his father would be interested in drinking his Pepsi in the middle of the night, he mutely nodded. He knew Prosper would take it either way if he really wanted to.

Without further adieu, Prosper lifted the cup and up-ended it over the computer monitor. Cadel let out a strangled squeal as it began sparking. He was about to fling himself out of bed to try furtively to save it, but was stopped by Prosper's dark glare.

Cadel's gaze flickered back to the computer before deciding that it just wasn't worth it. He pulled the covers up slightly and rolled onto his other side, facing away from his computer and father.

There was silence, interrupted only by the clink of the now empty glass on the desk.

He heard Prosper's nearly silent footsteps on the carpet. He flinched as he felt felt a hand on his head. Surprisingly, all he did was run his long fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes.

"Good night, dear boy," he whispered.

Cadel listened to the retreating footsteps and heard his father mutter something about the sticky mess and ants before the door closed.

* * *

The next morning, Cadel went downstairs for breakfast only to find Prosper sitting at the large table. He was reading a newspaper and drinking coffee as though he was a normal person, actually concerned with stocks or news or something.

After a few minutes of silent eating, Cadel finally found the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind all night.

"You wouldn't _really_ shoot me, would you?"

Prosper silently folded up his newspaper and set it on the table. His dark gaze met Cadel's bright blue eyes.

"You wouldn't _really_ give me a reason to, would you?" he replied, a small smirk on his lips.

Cadel floundered for a decent reply, but didn't find one before Prosper was on his feet, leaving.

Before he left, he ruffled his child's chestnut colored hair.

"I'll buy you a new monitor when you finish your embezzlement homework."


	2. Sick

Anyone know how I can get my hands on The Genius Wars despite the fact I'm in the US? I will love you forever if you help me out.

One of the reviewers from chapter one, Eli, asked me if I take requests. Well, I'm happy to say that I do! I don't accept all requests, but I'll do it if I like the idea or if I owe you something or if I just love you. And I liked Eli's request.  
**So, Eli, this chapter is for you, inspired by you.**  
But one more thing.... the comment about my sister in the last chapter was meant as a joke meant to mess with her. You see, we had this conversation... and my idea of fun is tricking her into saying things she'll later regret...  
Anyway, it was kinda mean if you didn't know I was joking, so it'll go bye-bye as soon as I get around to it...

Oh, and this chapter takes place during Cadel's time at Axis.

* * *

"Cadel!" The door flew open, hitting the wall with a thud. "Cadel! We have to leave in 10 minutes! Why are you still in bed!?!" Bright light filled the room as he swatted the light switch to turn it on.

His words were met with pained groan. The sound came from a human-sized lump hidden under the blankets on the bed.

Prosper crossed the room in a few quick strides, annoyance plastered across his features. No son of his was going to laze around in bed all day when he should be doing something productive. Especially if that "something productive" was going to his own lying class. He wrapped his long fingers around one corner of the blanket. Without further ado, he tore the blankets off the huddled form hiding beneath them.

Cadel responded by burying his face in his pillow and groaning again.

"_Cadel," _Prosper began, voice cold and demanding,_ "_you are going to get up _right now_ or--"

Before he could finish, Cadel jerked up and flung himself out of bed. He stumbled past his father, but didn't get very far before he was grabbed by the arm and pulled back.

Cadel didn't quite understand why he was stopped right after he was ordered to get up, but his mind was too clouded to dwell on it. He vaguely registered Prosper's voice and tried to pull away but was unsuccessful. He opened his mouth to say something. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to speak. Rather, he found himself throwing up. On Prosper's suit.

Oops.

In the shock of the moment, Prosper's grip loosened and Cadel broke away, running to the bathroom. He knew Prosper would be livid when the shock wore off, and that he should either stay and try to help or hide somewhere, but there were bigger problems to attend to. Such as the fact he was throwing up again.

Thankfully, he had made it to the toilet this time. He felt he should be glad about the small victory, but the pain gripping his stomach demanded attention.

While Cadel was occupied emptying his stomach into the toilet, Prosper called Vadi then joined his son in the bathroom. He pealed off the layers of now ruined clothes and dropped them in a trash can that was really too small for anything bigger than a few paper towels. Thankfully, it had only gotten on his suit coat and shirt so he didn't have to undress completely. Running around stark naked wasn't exactly on his list of hobbies. He tried to avoid it when he could.  
Except that one time... but that's an entirely different story.

Cadel felt cold fingers brush against his forehead and flinched. Prosper had never hit him, but Cadel believed that one day he would be pushed to far and that the full force of that temper would be turned on him.

"Calm down. I just want to see if you have a fever."

In lieu of a proper response, Cadel groaned, pulling away from the toilet and leaning against the wall.

His curls were plastered to his face with sweat and his eyes half closed. He pulled his knees up to his chin and wrapped his arms around his legs, groaning yet again.

Prosper disappeared back into Cadel's bedroom for a moment before returning with a glass of water from the night before. He dumped out the water and refilled it.

He got on his knees

"You have a fever," Prosper commented, as though Cadel would care about such a small detail.

Just then Vadi showed up with a bunch of medicine bottles, a thermometer, and a new shirt for Prosper.

Prosper grabbed the shirt and pulled it on quickly. He glanced at Cadel, who was curled up and obviously in pain. He then turned his gaze to Vadi.

"Take care of him. Call Dr. Evans. Tell him to come over right away. Make sure he understands he doesn't have a choice in the matter." Prosper paused a moment, glancing around, as if trying to make sure he remembered everything. "I'll send Wilfreda up in a moment. If you need to get anything, have her go get it. I don't want Cadel left alone."

Vadi nodded. Prosper could feel Cadel's gaze on him, but he paid it no heed. He didn't want to see those eyes narrowed in pain anymore than he had to. It reminded him of Elspeth far too much.

He knew Cadel was still watching him as he left the room, but still refused to acknowledge it.

He heard sudden scrambling around behind him a moment before fingers grabbed him by the shirt sleeve. He looked over his shoulder to see Cadel standing there, a mix of anger and sadness on his face enhanced by his sick countenance.

"You're my _father. _You can't just hand me off to your servants the second I cease to be useful!"

"Go lay down, Cadel. You're in no state to be standing, let alone arguing with me," Prosper replied, thinking he was being nice. There were, after all, a hundred or so less nice things he could have said or done, but didn't.

Cadel, however, didn't seem to agree. Though he was growing more and more pale by the second, he refused to relent. "I just want you to--" he started, but stopped abruptly as his eyes flickered shut and began to topple forward.

Prosper spun around quickly, catching the small child before he hit the ground. Vadi rushed forward to help, but Prosper ordered him to go call the doctor instead. Vadi hurried out, leaving Prosper to deal with the unconscious child.

He gently picked Cadel up, surprised for perhaps the millionth time at how small he was. He laid Cadel on his bed, adjusted the pillow, and pulled the large comforter over him.

He glanced at the glowing numbers of the alarm clock, then at his son, unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of his lungs. With a shake of his head, and a self-mocking smile, he made his decision. Softly, he sat down on the edge of the bed. His long fingers brushed Cadel's hair from his face.

Prosper hated that he chose to stay. He hated that he let sentimentality stand in his way of doing what he knew to be best. He knew that when the other teachers, especially the crazy ones over at Yaramundi, realized that neither he nor Cadel had shown up, there would be a small panic. It would only cause trouble later.

But Cadel was right. He couldn't just leave. Not after being confronted like that.

That didn't mean he was happy about it though. Sentimentality is for the weak. He shouldn't be allowing himself to give into it, nor should he be teaching Cadel that it's ok.

He rotated and pulled Cadel into his lap. He began absentmindedly running his fingers through Cadel's soft, but damp with sweat, hair. He normally wouldn't do something like that, not unless he had something to gain from it, but this was what Cadel wanted, isn't it? Kind, comforting gestures that were ultimately meaningless. For Cadel, he'd do it.

For Cadel, he'd pretend.

He'd pretend that they were a normal enough family to care for each other, that they weren't being hunted by at least a dozen intelligence agencies, that he could actually lay claim to his son. He'd pretend that there was actually a place in their world for love.

He felt Cadel move, as if waking up. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when an arm slid around his waist and a face buried itself in the fabric of his shirt.

"Thank you..." Cadel muttered, his soft voice muted further by the fabric. "...Dad."


	3. Perspective

I'd like to take a moment to point out that you people are now reading a fic written by the best 4th year Japanese student in the STATE instead of one by a narcissist that _thinks_ she is. Thank you, and have a nice day.

Anyway, this chapter is just a little first-person narrative… actually, two of them sort of mushed together. It's kinda complicated. Cadel's thoughts are written in normal text, while Thaddeus's are in italics.

This is the "and some will be… God only knows," part of this fic's description. =D

* * *

I never really understood what Thaddeus—Prosper… whatever his name is—wanted from me. Sometimes, I feel as though he just wants a family to love and be loved by, even if that family is just him and me. Other times, I look into his eyes, and I'm _sure_ he sees me as nothing more than a pawn in whatever he's planning.

_Sometimes I catch Cadel staring at me, confusion in his eyes and calculations in his head. I know he's trying to figure me out, quantify me like everything else. I wish him luck. If he can read me, understand me, then I'll know all of this wasn't in vain, that one day he'll be ready to carry on this legacy._

Sometimes, he just scares me.

_But every time I catch him once again trying to figure me out, I'm happy because it means he hasn't worked it out yet. I know I've lost something, some vital part of my sanity along the way, and I… _

_I don't want him to understand. It takes insanity to understand insanity._

And I'm afraid I'll become like him.

_But he is my son and I will __not_ _allow him to become like those mindless drones society propagates._

But I think that's his goal.

_I know I've hurt him, and I know I'll have to keep doing so if I want him to be successful. And someday… I know that someday, he'll find out what happened to Elspeth. And he won't listen to why._

I know he lies to me, that I can't trust him, but I always find myself listening to his lies anyway.

Despite all this, I love him. He is my father, my only living family, after all.

_He may never forgive me, may never love me, but that's okay. I can live with his resentment, even his fear, but I can't let him be __nothing_.

I try to be what he wants. But often I find myself wishing that I was normal. But… he always said that word—_normal_—with such a vicious sneer.

I don't want him to think me worthless.

_I don't want him to think me cruel. But…_

But I think can't give up my dreams

_I can't give up my plans._

Even if he hates me for it.


End file.
